


You Fix Me Every Day

by Jessi



Series: Teen Angel 'verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fallen Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Teen Angel 'verse, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, punk!Cas, rated teen for language and mentions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi/pseuds/Jessi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teen Angel ‘verse 30 Day OTP Challenge: Cuddling Somewhere</p><p>After the shower, where Dean spent most of his time trying to fend off the advances of a wet and handsy Cas, eventually blurting out an irritated “Dammit, Cas, you’re hurt. Cut it out so we can get you fixed up!” Dean dresses in a white t-shirt and blue plaid pajama bottoms, then has Cas sit on the bed. He cleans the cuts, that aren’t nearly as bad as he thought, more like scrapes than actual wounds, applies some Neosporin, and tapes pads of gauze over them. Then he gives Cas’ hair one last rub with the rough motel towel, and helps him into a pair of underwear. Cas digs through his backpack for pajamas, and ends up in a hideous eyesore of a combination, green and brown plaid pajama bottoms he stole from Dean, and a bright red Ramones shirt. Dean does his best to not look at the outfit head on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Fix Me Every Day

**Author's Note:**

> These fics are written for fans and brokenhearted queers with _needs_ so no you may not teach them in your class. I didn't go to college and neither will my fics. We're keepin' it real.

They’re in the motel, just back from a hunt. Sam is out on a date with a leggy brunette research assistant they met on the investigation, so it’s just Cas and Dean in the room. Dean is sitting on the bed, back leaned up on pillows propped against the headboard watching Cas wearily. Cas is standing in the middle of the room, barefoot and shirtless in a pair of Dean’s jeans, cradling a bundle of fabric with a distraught look on his face. It’s his favorite Misfits shirt, 4 slashes running through it from the right shoulder to almost the waistline, caught by the claws of a werewolf seconds before Dean managed to put a silver bullet through it’s brain. 

It’s not that Dean doesn’t give a shit about the shirt, he’s actually rather fond of it, primarily because whenever Cas wears it and Dean sees the Crimson Ghost staring back at him it triggers memories of Cas on his knees, midway through a sloppy blow job (too much saliva, not enough suction, but amazing all the same) pulling off of Dean and coyly gazing up at him through dark lashes, rasping out “Dean, am I _your_ little angelfuck?” and obviously, Dean didn’t last long after that. So yeah, Dean likes the shirt, but he loves Cas, and right now Cas is bleeding, 4 claw marks to match the ones on the shirt, shallow and bleeding sluggishly across Cas’ chest, which means Dean doesn’t much care about the shirt at all.

“For fuck sake, Cas! Forget about the goddamn shirt! We can get you another one. Right now let’s worry about getting you patched up, alright?” Dean spits out gruffly.

Cas looks up, obviously offended, “But Dean, this one was perfect, old and soft, a new one won’t be the same.”

Dean stands, walks to Cas and forcibly takes the bundle from him, “I know. And I know you love this shirt, but I love you, and right now I need to be sure you’re alright, so let’s go shower off, and then I’ll get those cuts all cleaned and bandaged, ok?”

Cas pauses a moment, but resigned he nods his agreement. He shimmies out of his jeans and boxer briefs, and walks towards the tiny bathroom, swaying his tight little ass as he goes, then tosses a glance over his shoulder at Dean, “Are you coming?”

After the shower, where Dean spent most of his time trying to fend off the advances of a wet and handsy Cas, eventually blurting out an irritated “Dammit, Cas, you’re hurt. Cut it out so we can get you fixed up!” Dean dresses in a white t-shirt and blue plaid pajama bottoms, then has Cas sit on the bed. He cleans the cuts, that aren’t nearly as bad as he thought, more like scrapes than actual wounds, applies some Neosporin, and tapes pads of gauze over them. Then he gives Cas’ hair one last rub with the rough motel towel, and helps him into a pair of underwear. Cas digs through his backpack for pajamas, and ends up in a hideous eyesore of a combination, green and brown plaid pajama bottoms he stole from Dean, and a bright red Ramones shirt. Dean does his best to not look at the outfit head on.

Both men dressed, Dean settles back in his spot against the headboard, then spreads his thighs to make room for Cas to sit in front of him, “C’mere, babe.”

Cas settles into the bow of Dean’s legs, and lays back against a warm broad chest, sighing contentedly. Dean places kisses into Cas damp hair, then grabs the remote off of the nightstand, “What do you want to watch?”

Dean is prepared to watch anything Cas wants, be it the Discovery Channel, or the Princess Diaries, he doesn’t care. He’s still freaked out about Cas getting hurt, and he’s Dean Winchester, so he’s blaming himself for the injuries as well. 

Cas knows, knows him better than anybody but Sam, and so he arches his neck back and kisses Dean’s jaw, “I don’t care. I think there’s a Dr. Sexy marathon on tonight.”

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ torso and gives him a little squeeze, “You’re the best.”

Dean switches to Dr. Sexy and settles in cozy on the bed, Cas a pleasant heat against him. He has to crane his neck a bit to see the TV around Cas' head, one of the hazards of dating someone nearly as tall as himself, but he doesn’t really mind.

Still, there’s a nagging thought in the back of his mind, that means he can’t focus on the fictional object of his affections. “Hey, Cas, why were you so freaked out about the shirt? I know you liked it a lot, but it seemed like there was more to it.”

Cas takes a deep breath, and is silent so long Dean thinks he might not answer, then he speaks, “I couldn’t fix it.”

“I know that, but-”

Cas cuts him off, “I couldn’t fix it, and I couldn’t heal my cuts. I can’t fix anything anymore, and I hate it. I love being with you, spending my life with you, I love _you_ , but sometimes it still hurts, all the things I lost.”

Dean squeezes Cas as tight as he can without hurting the smaller man, and presses soft kisses everywhere he can reach, on the back of Cas’ neck, in his hair, on his shoulders, and in between kisses he murmurs, “That’s not true, angel, you fix me, you fix me every day.”

Cas squirms in Dean’s embrace, just enough so that he can turn sideways and look at Dean face to face. Blue eyes meet green, both filled with so much love and gratitude, and Cas gives Dean a deep kiss, no intent, just affection. Then Cas burrows up against Dean’s chest like a great big house cat and rumbles out, “I love you, Dean Winchester.”


End file.
